


You've Got Mail

by Azumeowth



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azumeowth/pseuds/Azumeowth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is a man just trying to run his café while the city starts to panic about the coming year 2000 and the 'end of the world' as people know it. A stranger appears who might just bring the end of Arthur's little world himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of an art/fic trade for whatthefrukjusthappened.

You've Got Mail

 

Arthur Kirkland stared out the window of his small café in New York City. There were only a few customers sitting at the tables with cups of tea and plates of crumpets and scones. He rolled his eyes as he noticed someone across the street preaching about how the year 2000 was the end of the world. Arthur didn't believe in such things, the world would continue as it always had. Since there wasn't a whole lot to do, he decided to sit at his computer and check his mail.

 

_Welcome. You've got mail!_ The computer chirped its familiar sound at him and he quickly went to check his inbox. Sure enough, a new email was there from the person he had been messaging back and forth. They hadn't exchanged names and only referred to each other by parts of their screen names.

 

>White Rabbit, you'll be happy to note that I have now settled in my new home. My father's new business is going to be opening soon, so I will be busy helping him with things for awhile. I will still reply to you whenever I can spare a moment, so do not fret! - handsomefrogprince

 

Arthur chuckled at the email and shook his head as he began to type a reply back to him. That was the only thing he knew about his friend, that he was male, but even that could be a lie so he didn't really know for sure.

 

>>As if I'd ever fret over you, Frog Prince. It's well good to hear you're settling in. There's some lunatic across the street ranting and raving about the Millennium. It floors me to know some people buy into this Y2K nonsense and all that. Other than that, it's been a quiet day. - whiterabbitandtea

 

Once Arthur sent the mail, he leaned back into his chair and sighed.  When he heard the bell at the door ring, he glanced up to see who his new customer was.

 

“Welcome to Tea Party, how may I serve you?” It grated on his nerves to be this polite, but it was bad for business to be anything but. The customer was a well-dressed man with blond hair that looked to be around his own age, if not slightly older.

 

“Mm...? How delightfully _British_ this café is...I believe I will try some of your Earl Grey. I hear it's the best in the neighborhood.” The man had a French accent, but not so thick that Arthur couldn't understand him.

 

“Clearly you must be new around here,” Arthur smirked and forgot to be polite as he prepared the tea. “Because otherwise you would _know_ it.”

 

“Of course I am, though I admit I am more of a coffee drinker.” The man came over and sat down at the counter. Arthur served him his tea and accepted payment for it without further commentary and went back to his computer. “ _Merci_ ~” The Frenchman chuckled as he waited for the cup to cool a little.

 

Arthur frowned a little when he didn't see any replies in his email, his friend really must be busy, like he'd said. He had every intention to go back to ignoring his customers unless he was needed, but the Frenchman spoke up again.

 

“Your name is Arthur, correct? My brother is a regular here, he's the one who told me about this place.”

 

“...that's right.” Arthur arched his eyebrow. He wasn't aware of any of his regulars being French.

 

“Ah, then it is good to meet you, Arthur. Matthew sends his regards.” The Frenchman began drinking his tea and sat the cup down with a sigh. “It is acceptable.”

 

Arthur's eyebrow twitched as he plastered on a smile to keep from saying what he really wanted to say. The customer is always right, they say, even if they are a bloody twat, he thought. “Oh, Matthew? I didn't realize he was French.”

 

“Ah, well he is Canadian. We're _half_ -brothers.” The Frenchman drank more of his tea and then sat the cup back down. “Well then, I should be going. _Au revoir_ ~” With that, he moved away from his seat and left the café. Arthur took the cup and frowned as he felt how heavy it was.

 

“...bastard left the cup bloody half _full_.”

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days were uneventful for Arthur, aside from the usual crazies yelling their conspiracy theories on the streets. He had nearly forgotten about his interaction with the strange Frenchman until he came across a building that had recently been renovated. The man had never told him his name and Arthur hadn't cared enough to ask. However, the picture on the grand opening banner of 'Bonnefoy and Son's' was definitely the man he'd seen. It was a restaurant, family owned obviously, but he wasn't worried. His little café was a different kind of establishment and his customers were loyal. That said, he entered the building in the name of reconnaissance. He was quickly seated and looked at the menu of drinks. So they had tea here as well, he saw. Surely it would taste like stale water, but he decided it was worth a shot.

“Earl Grey, two sugars, milk.” He told the waiter, without bothering to read the rest of the menu. The waiter excused himself as he went to fill the order. Arthur found himself staring out one of the windows and down the street. He had a view of his own café from here, though it was faint. It was closed for the evening, unlike this fancy French restaurant he was in. He furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about the consequences of that. Perhaps it was time to hire someone to do an evening shift so that Tea Party could stay open later. When the tea arrived, he expected to hate it and prepared to gloat over the foul mixture he'd been served. As soon as he took the first sip, his entire body froze. The tea wasn't watery, nor was it weak. In fact, the blend tasted fantastic, almost better than his own. Another sip and the flavor washed over his tongue. How could a Frenchman prepare a tea better than him? “Sir, I demand to see the person who made this.” Arthur found himself glaring at the beverage. The waiter looked nervous and stepped back into the back.

“Is there some sort of trouble?” A familiar voice spoke to Arthur as someone approached. He immediately recognized it as the Frenchman who came to his café.

“You're bloody right there's some sort of trouble!” Arthur snapped at him before he could stop himself. “You call this swill Earl Grey? It's nothing but cat piss in a cup!” He dumped the tea over onto the carpet in fit of rage. His first instinct was to throw it at the man, but that would have been assault. “I'm not paying for this disgusting garbage runoff.” He huffed and stood, then stormed out without glancing behind him at the bewildered Frenchman or the other customers.

Once he was in the safety of his apartment, the shame of what he did fully hit him. He held his face in his hands and groaned. Arthur had made a spectacle of himself just because he felt threatened by a Frenchman and his tea. He really needed someone to talk to, so he made his way over to his desk and turned on his computer to get online. He sighed as he realized he had no mail, his friend was probably starting his new job. Just the same, he decided to send an email of his own.

 

>Hello Frog Prince, I know you must be busy, but I needed to tell someone what happened today. I was a right idiot in public. I threw a tantrum in the middle of a restaurant because I was scared. Scared that all my customers are going to go to this new place in town. Well, if they weren't before, they surely will now when they find out what I've done. I can't even go back to apologise, I don't think I could ever show my face in there again. I could use some advice, if you've got any. - whiterabbitandtea

 

Hours passed while Arthur did some paperwork and budgeting. He kept America Online running on his computer. It wasn't until he heard a particular sound that he looked up at his screen. An Instant Message had appeared and it was his friend.

 

**handsomefrogprince** : Sounds like you had a rough day. Did you still want to talk about it?

 

Arthur smiled and put his papers aside and began responding.

 

**whiterabbitandtea** : Yes, hello there. I felt like such a fool today, losing my temper like that.

 

**handsomefrogprince** : So, you said you wanted advice? I think...the best thing to do would be to apologize, even if you say you cannot show your face in there.

 

**whiterabbitandtea** : I'm sure I'd be kicked out if I so much as entered the door.

 

**handsomefrogprince** : Nonsense. If you explain what you are doing, they will allow you in. Trust me, this person probably wants to hear your apology as much as you want to say it.

 

**whiterabbitandtea** : Suppose you're right, but that doesn't make it any easier. What's worse is this man knows me, he's been to my café. He's related to one of my regulars, even. He could ruin me. It's only been a couple of days and my profits have decreased, and that was before this incident.

 

Several minutes passed between responses. Arthur was sure he'd gone offline until another message appeared on his screen.

 

**handsomefrogprince** : I do not think he means to ruin you. Business is just business, after all. Apologize to him, and if he does not accept, think no more of it.

 

**whiterabbitandtea** : Very well then, I shall do just that. Thank you. I should turn in for now, goodnight.

 

**handsomefrogprince** : Goodnight to you as well, and good luck.

 

Arthur sighed as he signed off and shut his computer down for the night. His decision had been made, he'd acted like a fool so he had to fix things by acting like the gentleman he had always claimed to be. Tomorrow, he would march back into that damned restaurant and apologize, then hope for the best.


End file.
